Look At Me
by chiibi13
Summary: ONESHOT. She'd never say that it came as a surprise to her, after all, she was the one who decided to play with fire. She knew from the moment he flashed her a devilish smile as she shook his hand that she'd sold her soul. Rated T for language and sexual references.


She needed to get away, that much she knew. Every alarm in her head was ringing, blaring and practically _exploding_ because she knew that she had dug herself a deep, deep grave and had no one else to blame for it but herself.

She'd never say that it came as a surprise to her, after all, she was the one who decided to play with fire. She knew from the moment he flashed her a devilish smile as she shook his hand that she'd sold her soul. So she wouldn't ever say that it came as a surprise to her or that it turned her world upside down because the whole time, she'd seen it coming.

She could have just backed away, left the room before he'd notice her watching him play the eerie music resounding in his soul but she didn't. She stayed rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the intensity of it all and then clapped like an idiot after he'd finished playing. She could have left after that, too. She could have ignored the haunted echoes of those ivory keys calling out to her and simply left after she dumbly commented,"_That was beautiful._'

She should have ignored his soft scoff and walked out of that room, not stay and introduce herself, hands pressed behind her back politely,"Hi, I'm Maka Albarn," her girly voice and cheerful smile almost comically out of place in the morose atmosphere. She had waited patiently for his reply, a spark in her causing her the cogs in her mind to start churning. She was fascinated by the what she found before her. She wanted to know him, to understand that clash of notes that seemed to pour out of him earlier.

Then, in one moment she knew she was a goner.

He swiveled around on the bench so he could give her his full attention, eyes a deep blood-red fixating an amused and almost predatory gaze. They roamed over her, sizing her up and making electricity dance up and down her nervous system. She watched him part his lips to speak, a sharp canine peaking out and her eyes darted to his neck to watch his Adam's apple bob as his deep voice seemed to reverberate in her own chest.

"_Soul. Soul Eater._"

She could have, would have, _should have_ left it there. But she didn't. Because she was Maka; proud, stubborn, stupid _Maka fucking Albarn _who never backed down from anything.

So, no, Maka wasn't in the least surprised to find that her feelings for her partner had evolved into something more than the platonic kind one was generally expected to have for a friend. She was just disappointed in herself. "I'm stronger than that," she said, "It's just a small attraction - it'll go away."

Yeah, well, that boat had sailed way over the horizon.

And now, she had to get away from Soul. She needed to get stronger, she needed to to run and hide from his ridiculously intense gaze because they were on their 98th soul and soon, he wouldn't be hers anymore. She needed to accept that after Soul, her life would go on, with or without him.

She knew she was being melodramatic; it wasn't as if he was _dying_ or anything. It's just that they were going down different roads. Being a Deathscythe, he'd be sent all over the world on solo missions, going where the Lord of Reapers could not while she'd probably stay in the Death City and teach at Shibusen. She'd never take another on weapon after Soul, she couldn't. She could never resonate with another because it was at this point, all that she think about was _Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul. _

He'd completely engulfed her without even knowing it and she'd guiltily loved every torturous second of it. The feeling of him close, the occasional brush of his hand against hers, the glorious smell of his masculine body spray, his grin so sexy that it was practically _sinful_; she drank it all in, every single day behind a mask of apathy.

But now, it was time to check into rehab.

"Soul!" she poked at him. "Wake up, class is over."

He responded with a low mutter that vaguely sounded like,"Five more minutes."

Maka could feel her eyebrow twitch. The nerve of him! Here she was, lost in her own torment_ during class, _and there he lay in blissful ignorance. She briefly wished that she could indulge in such things but she was too smart for that. She was far too aware of her feelings than she'd like to be.

A quick swish in the air resounded through the room as a thick copy of _Jane Eyre_ introduced itself to the demon scythe's head. Maka swiftly tucked it back into her bag as Soul made his own introduction to her paper-back friend.

"MOTHER FU-"

**_BAM!_**

Maka didn't approve of swearing. Well, she didn't exactly detest it, seeing as how she used the crude language in her inner monologue but that didn't mean she couldn't reinforce good behavior.

"I'm awake, woman!" Soul scowled, cradling his aching head.

"You shouldn't sleep through classes anyways," Maka scolded. arms crossed over her modest chest.

"It's not like we're going to stay here for much longer anyways," he growled. "Just two more souls to go," his smirked, demeanor changing.

Maka felt a small pang in her chest. "Yeah, I know," she said, smiling a little sadly. Soul studied her forlorn expression, confusion etched into his handsome features.

"Oy, are you okay, tiny-tits?"

"I'm fine," she quickly brushed it off with a bright smile. "Listen, I've got something else I need to do today so go home ahead of me."

"I'll just wait for you then."

"You don't have to. Just go home and take a nap or something," she replied, her mouth set in a thin line.

"The library's a great place to sleep in," he countered. Damn it. He was not going to make this easy for her, was he?

"I'm not going to the library," she argued tiredly. "I'm going to the training grounds."

"What? We're going to train again?" Soul yawed, arching his back to stretch his arms. Against her will, Maka's eyes immediately wandered over to toned arms and could not help but wonder if he would arch the same way into her.

_'Damn it, Maka, focus!' s_he inwardly scolded her libido.

She cleared her throat and tried to avert her gaze to something less enticing. "No, _I'm_ going to train some more. _You're_ going home," she sighed in what she hoped was an irritated tone.

"I might as well train with you," Soul insisted, his eyes meeting hers creating involuntary jitters dance in the pit of her stomach.

"Fine!" she gasped in exasperation."But I don't want to hear any complaints from you." She turned, pigtails twirling along with her and left the room, Soul diligently trailing along behind her.

* * *

Maka huffed in frustration as Soul fell it to the ground with a sharp clang.

"Damn it, Maka!"

"Shut up, Soul!" she retaliated as Soul quickly transformed back into his human form. "I've almost got it! One more time."

They'd been practicing a new maneuver for a little over an hour now and she still couldn't get it. Normally, this would have been as easy as pie for her but today, she was just so distracted which only further frustrated her. It didn't help the very source of her problems was with her for the whole damn time. Stupid Soul. Why couldn't he have just gone home?

"No," he stubbornly stated. "We need to take a break."

Maka gritted her teeth. "Just one more time, Soul. I can get this."

"No."

"Why not?" she barked.

"Because you're obviously distracted! And I don't feel like being dropped ass first on the ground for the hundredth time!"

"Fine! Take a break," she ground out, walking away. Arguing with him was good for her, in a way. Sure, it would affect their resonance but it was a hell of a lot easier to think of him in annoyance rather than in pre-teen angst.

Soul unceremoniously plopped down onto the scuffed ground, folding his arms like a cross child and watched his meister march towards the school. Minutes later, she returned with a two bottles of water in one hand and a long length of pipe that was approximately the same length as his weapon form in the other.

"What is that?" he asked, reaching out for the bottle that she offered.

"A substitute," she replied, purposefully avoiding his piercing gaze by taking a sip of water from her own bottle. She quickly set it down and put a distance between them and began practicing the maneuver again with the pipe.

"I thought we were taking a break?" Soul asked, his voice slightly raised so she could hear him.

"_You're_ taking a break. I'm practicing until I get this," she ground out while expertly twirling the pole around her. It was a little heavier than Soul but that was fine. It would make handling Soul much easier afterwards anyways.

"Put that stupid thing down and take a break, Maka," he growled.

"No! I can - ugh! - get this!" she yelled, frustrated when the pole slipped from her grasp and fell with a sharp clang making Soul slightly wince at the sound.

"Maka, you've been practicing that for an hour now. You need to take a breather," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm. This only infuriated Maka, though. His baritone voice was doing weird things to her so she turned her back to him and simply twirled away like Armageddon was coming. For Soul, that was the last straw.

He leaped to his feet and marched over to the stubborn scythe-wielder. Maka could feel him coming closer but defiantly spun the damn thing again, almost mockingly. Soul, being a a head taller than her simply reached over her shoulder and caught it in mid-swing. Maka turned half-way to glare at him but he didn't care; he wrenched it out of her grasp and flung it far away, satisfied when he heard a dull metal clang vaguely in the far distance.

The two glared at each other, unwilling to break eye contact lest they lose the battle of dominance.

"What the hell, Soul?" she yelled.

"Why are we practicing these stupid maneuvers in the first place?" Soul asked, irritation evident in his voice.

"What do you mean? Of course we're going to practice them because it's important, stupid!" Maka barked back.

"We should be working on our resonance," Soul stated, making Maka flinch. She averted her gaze quickly, unable to look into his intensity of his stare.

"Our resonance is fine," she muttered.

"It's not and you know it. We can't even hold it for ten minutes!" They'd improved considerably over the years somehow, but they could never hold it long enough to do any proper impact if they were to fight against a witch at their current level.

"Ten minutes is long enough!" she glowered. She didn't want to talk about this. Not now, she wasn't ready.

"It won't be long enough to handle a witch! We're two souls away from that already and we haven't resonated properly for almost two months! We've been able to handle kishin eggs so far but we can't go up against a witch like this!"

Maka clenched her jaw. She knew he was right and it irked her to no end because she knew why they couldn't resonate properly; it was because of her. She'd had no problem resonating with him over the years until now. Three years ago, it was a no problem; in fact, she was the one who kept pushing him to let her in, to resonate stronger, even going so far as to risk her sanity before the black blood had been purged from their systems.

She knew it was hypocritical of her to push him away now but she had too much at stake. Over the years, she slowly began to retreat into herself as her suppressed feeling kept building up and she eventually couldn't risk the chance that he'd finally reach her and break down her defenses.

It was selfish of her, she knew. Keeping him out just so that her pride could be spared was stupid, especially considering their line of work. Even if she hated to admit it, they would have to face a witch soon and then it would literally be a life or death situation for them. She had to resonate with him - it was her duty as his meister.

"Fine," she sighed, turning to finally face him. She could take it. She would just have to concentrate extra hard on hiding her feelings for him. She was strong enough for that. She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

"You ready?" his voice was calm now and his stare was as distracting as always but Maka managed to nod in compliance. He transformed into his weapon form and in a flash of light, he was up in the air, twirling towards his meister's. She caught the scythe with practiced ease and prepared herself for the battler about to take place within her.

"Soul resonance!" their voice rang out in the empty training grounds in unison.

Maka felt her soul slowly gravitate towards his, the pull of his soul slightly frightening her. She forced herself to calm down and allowed herself to connect with him, their souls sparking making her insides tingle. The energy of the powerful act created a light wind, picking up loose dust off the ground and swirling it around the pair. A blue light soon joined the dust in it's dance around them, waltzing from their feet to above their heads. Maka felt her soul finally conjoin with Soul's, the very essence of his being filling her, pushing at the walls she so painstakingly built around her.

"Damn it, Maka!" Soul growled, raising his voice slightly over the force. "Why won't you let me in?"

Maka clenched her jaw in concentration, pushing that hidden part of her soul away to make more room for his soul but he only followed her, pressing and demanding to be let in. She could feel their wave-length wavering, dangerously unstable.

"Maka!" he grabbed her arm, desperate to finally make the connection. When had he transformed back into his human form? "Maka, look at me!"

She became aware that she had turned away from him, eyes shut tightly in concentration. Reluctantly, she turned to face those crimson orbs and suddenly gave in. She knew those damn eyes would always be her undoing.

She was tired, _so fucking tired_ of fighting it and now, she just wanted it all to be over. She threw her last shred of dignity away and let him tear down her walls, opening the floodgates allowing her soul to completely align with his. The blue energy dancing around them burst into a frenzy, swirling around them faster as she completely gave in, allowing the flood that was pent up inside for years to wash over his soul.

She faintly heard him gasp at the sudden onslaught of her emotions, all of which he was the root cause of. He felt the embarrassment, the warmth, the lust, the _love_ that he stirred in her, the intensity of it all making him tighten his grip on her arm in support, eyes screwed shut against the great torrent crashing against his soul. She could feel her eyes tear up and knew that the humiliation and defeat was evident in her wavelength. She'd never been this vulnerable before and although exhaustion began to creep into her, she felt a great sense of relief as if a great burden was lifted off her chest.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tide began to ebb as their resonance slowly came to an end, the sparking, blue electricity fizzling and the dust settled gracefully back onto the ground. Maka quickly turned and began walking towards the school to avoid any sort of confrontation. After a minute, she could hear Soul's feet scuffling against the ground following her as always. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head but she refused to look at him; there would be no discussion about this.

She was tired and all she wanted to do was go home.

* * *

She had expected him to say something, to corner her and demand an explanation but a month later and no sign of a confrontation in view, she had to say she was relieved. When they reached home that fateful day, her beeline towards the sanctity of her room was cut short by the sound of her weapon plopping onto the couch and the simple question,"Oi, what's for dinner?"

To put it in short terms, both of them were pretending it never happened.

But seeing how Maka was, well, _Maka_, she began to over-think. At first, the space her partner had chosen to give her had put her at ease but it seemed a little unfair that all of her vulnerabilities were out in the open and she knew nothing of his feelings on the matter.

_'__Why was he being so passive about this? What if he doesn't feel the same way and is trying to spare my feelings?'_ she had thought.

_'No', _she steeled herself. '_He's probably giving me space because he thinks that's what I want._'

For a while, she briefly indulged herself with the thought that maybe, _just maybe,_ he reciprocated her feelings. And then she let that train of thought crash and burn. She would not let herself hope and set herself up for failure. It was bad enough that Soul knew _every thing_ but if she had to face his rejection today, of all special days, she wouldn't be able to deal with it.

Today, Soul was to become a Deathscythe. After three years of toiling, all their sweat and blood had finally paid off and she had reached her beloved Mama's level. After their full resonance on the training grounds on that fateful day, their soul resonance was stronger, faster and held for longer than ever. So retrieving those last three souls, even the witch's soul, had been easier than Maka thought it would have been - a small comfort in her overall humiliation.

Yes, today was supposed to be a joyous day, a day of glory and celebration. So why was she so on edge? She stood in front of the full-body mirror in her room, staring intently at her own reflection and willed the jitters in her stomach to disappear.

_Today was that last day she would be his meister._

They had reached their goal but it was a bittersweet victory. What was Soul going to do now? Was he just waiting for this so he could partner with someone else, someone who was less emotionally attached than she was? She wasn't blind; she'd seen the partnership requests in his locker. Despite herself, she couldn't help but feel a little angry at him.

'_Men are all the same,_' she reminded herself,'_One moment they're there and the next, they're chasing what ever has two legs and a heartbeat._'

Enough wallowing in self-pity; she had to get dressed. Today was a big day, after all.

* * *

All of their friends had come. Her annoying father was there as well but when she had finally dared to look at their audience from the Death Lord's small stage, the sight of her Mama standing amongst the small crowd, proud eyes shiny with tears gazing at her, she could not help but stand a little taller and forget her mundane boy-troubles for a short while.

The moment after they had stepped off that small podium, she ran into her mother's arms, eyes brimming with tears as her mother whispered,"I'm so proud of you." She felt at the top of the world; _this _is what she was supposed to feel today. She was supposed to feel accomplished and proud of her and her partner's hard work, not wallow in self pity like some forlorn heroine of a tragic novel.

As her mother released her, she was swept into a rib-crushing glomp by her blubbering father. Normally, she would have chopped him on the head but today, she let it go. She returned the hug with as much motivation she could muster, touched by the inaudible gasp and tears on her shoulder she felt.

The moment ended soon.

"MAKAAA! PAPA'S SO PROUD OF YOU~!" her father cried as he picked her up, crushing her to his chest and spun around, like a child playing with a doll.

Before she knew what she was doing, she held a book in one hand as she stared down at her now-unconscious father. She honestly didn't mean to do it because by now, it had simply become a reflex but that didn't mean she was about to apologize for it. There was only so much she could take and she needed air, after all.

Her Mama began giggling and Maka joined in, their quiet laughter turning into full-out guffaws. She felt truly happy.

Her eyes wandered over to her partner. He was practically shining; he was surrounded by happy shouts of congratulation, assaults on his back (by Black Star, of course) and he looked genuinely proud. Maka felt a little sad that his parents weren't here but she knew Soul wanted it that way. This was something he had accomplished on his own and without them.

Suddenly, as if he had read her thoughts, Soul looked straight at her, those crimson orbs penetrating right through to her core. With a grin he broke away from the small group and made his way towards her.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?" he asked

"It'd be rude to leave, you know," she replied with a raised eyebrow.

After a short pause, his grin only grew, mischief dancing in his eyes as he replied,"I know."

Maka felt her heart skip a beat and she could feel herself blushing. This man was going to be the death of her someday.

"Kid made dinner reservations for us, you know. We're supposed to celebrate with everyone," she said in what she hoped was an annoyed voice, choosing to look at the floor rather than the shit-eating grin she knew was probably on her weapon's face.

"We've got a few hours, I think. Besides, I need to talk to you and I'd prefer it was in private."

This struck a chord in Maka. From what she learned from crappy soap operas and cheesy romance novels, she knew the phrase 'w_e need to talk_' was never a good sign.

"Okay, let's go home," Maka replied giving him a small smile. She quickly turned and said her goodbyes with a promise to see her friends and family at dinner. As soon as she was out the door, her mind raced.

_Did Soul want to talk about getting a new partner? Would she have to move out?_

She thought their partnership would have lasted at least a couple of more days. She thought Soul wouldn't be so cruel as to throw her away on the very day they earned their title but at least he decided to mercifully tell her at home, rather than in front of all everyone. She briefly wondered how she would react; would she cry in front of him? Oh, god, she hoped not. Maybe she'd hit him a couple of times to vent her frustration and then lock herself in her room to bawl her eyes out. Then, if he was still there the next day or whenever she climbed out of her hole of despair, she would tell him she understood and then let him go.

A small cough finally snapped her out of her reverie. She quickly realized that they had arrived in front of their - soon to be 'just Soul's, she supposed - apartment and judging by his awkward cough earlier, she guessed they were parked in front building for a little while now. With a stammered 'sorry', she quickly got off the motorcycle and walked in front of him, furiously willing blush she knew graced her cheeks to go away. Damn her pale skin.

A jingle of keys later, they entered the apartment and she briefly pondering on which of the furniture she'd be able to keep. She'd probably let him keep it all; they would just remind her of him too much. Yes, she'd rather move out than stay there without him. She imagined herself in their empty apartment, haunted by his memory. It was a lonely picture.

"Maka," she heard Soul call out as he entered through the door. Her heart thumped against her ribcage violently so she decided to rummage through the fridge to avoid looking at him.

"Hmm?" she replied, to let him know she was listening. She took out a half-empty carton of orange juice and inspected the expiration date.

"We need to talk."

Maka felt panic rise in her stomach. She quickly retreated farther into the kitchen to get a glass while she replied,"About what?"

A short pause. She assumed he was studying her pour her juice. She nearly jumped when she suddenly felt his presence behind her; granted, he kept a small distance between them but it was still too close for comfort.

"Maka, look at me."

She hated those words, the very words that had been her undoing that day on the training field. She would not let that happen again - she was prepared this time. She her eyes and took a deep breath. After steeling herself, she reluctantly turned around to face him, looking straight into his eyes almost defiantly.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. She watch his eyes dart over her face, studying her before he released a sigh.

"We need to talk about what happened last month on the training field."

_That _was unexpected. Maka's eyes widened as realization sunk in and she immediately turned to leave but Soul grabbed her arm.

"Absolutely not!" she squeaked, clawing at his hand so she could escape.

"No, you are _not_ running away!" Soul growled, "We need to talk about this, Maka!"

She managed to snatch her arm away from his grip but stood her ground, obviously upset.

"There's nothing to talk about!" she spat.

"Yes, there is!"

With a resounding,"No!", she ran, intent on shutting herself in the safety of her room but her partner quickly followed suit. As she paused to open the door, he grabbed her free hand and spun her around. He felt his grip loosen as she continually shoved him away so he pushed her up against the hallway wall. She gasped as the wind was momentarily knocked out of her lungs and Soul quickly took the opening, effectively pinning her wrists in each of his hands against the wall.

"Let me go, you pervert!" she cried, struggling to free herself.

"I will if you would just stay still and talk to me!" he ground out, trying to keep his voice level.

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"_Yes, there is, damn it!"_ he yelled, finally snapping. Maka stopped wriggling; he was too strong for her to take on. She was at his mercy.

She looked at him. "Please, don't," she pleaded quietly. He looked stunned for a moment before his expression softened and he loosened his grip on her but still kept her in place.

"We _need_ to talk about this."

Maka could feel her eyes sting with tears. _Damn it_, she had promised herself she wouldn't cry in front of him.

"There's nothing to talk about," she mumbled, looking away as she heard him exhale a long sigh. "You already know everything," she continued slowly, trying to keep her voice from breaking. Her throat burned and she could hear own heart beat, the sound like a hammer thumping against cloth pulsating in her ears.

"Yeah, but _you _don't," Soul replied softly.

Confused, Maka look up to ask him what he meant only to be silenced by a pair of lips against her own.

She could feel her eyes widen and her body freeze up. Sensing this, Soul quickly pulled away, carefully watching her reaction.

"W-... What?" she stuttered. _Soul just kissed her. Plain, boring, Maka Albarn. **What? **_She searched for a logical explanation but her brain was too clogged up by hope and hormones to function properly. She decided to resort to denial. Angry denial.

"Don't toy with me," she spat, her face contorted in fury. This seemed to surprise Soul for a moment but he quickly regained himself, his face set in determination.

"I'm not toying with you. I'm completely serious," he replied resolutely.

Maka's face fell and she could feel the panic slowly rise from her stomach again. She wasn't prepared for this, she didn't know how to handle it! Her eyes darted to her imprisoned hands and ran exit strategies through her head.

Immediately sensing her panic, Soul lightly tightened his grip, taking care not to hurt her. "I already told you," he stated,"You're not running away from this."

* * *

Maka finally stopped her struggling gave up fighting against him altogether.

"I- I don't understand," she squeaked, eyes focused on looking at looking at anything but him.

"What's not to understand?" he sighed. Maka would have been irritated at that but she was too distracted by his proximity to care about how stupid she sounded right now.

"I don't understand... _this,_" she replied vaguely, not knowing how to phrase her scattered thoughts.

"What _this_ is depends on you," Soul replied, effectively capturing her full attention as she snapped her head to look at him. "I'm willing to stay with you forever if you'd let me."

"So... you don't want a new partner?" she meekly asked, making her captor give a small laugh.

"No," he replied with a small smile, loosening his grip on her wrists.

"But you're a Deathscythe now," she muttered, looking away again, slightly irking Soul. He slowly released her wrists but placed a hand on either side of Maka against the wall to lean forward, drawing closer and effectively trapping her in his arms.

"I don't want anyone but you," he quietly said, resting his forehead against hers. Maka was transfixed on his husky voice was so soft and inviting, echoing in her ears and doing weird things to her stomach.

"Don't you get it, you stupid woman?" he laughed fondly. "Don't make me spell it out for you - it wouldn't be cool."

She knew what he meant; she had hoped, dreamed that he would someday whisper sweet promises in her ear like he was doing right now. It all felt surreal and Maka _needed_ to know that this wasn't just some cruel joke or wet dream. Looking at his shut eyes, she willed her mouth to open and her voice to demand, unwavering,"Say it."

His eyes fluttered open and emerald met ruby. She searched his eyes, looking for a lie or a sign that this moment she found herself in wasn't real but found that he was searching into her own meridian orbs for something, too.

He gave a small chuckle and turned to whisper right into her ear, his breath warm tickling her neck making an unbearable heat shoot straight down past Maka's waistline and into her panties.

"_Maka_," he whispered so softly, it was almost indistinguishable. "_I love you."_

She could have sworn that her heart stopped. So many things went through her mind, each thought clambering and crashing into each other so quickly that it felt like she wasn't thinking anything at all. Her body switched to autopilot and she managed to register that her arms were moving on their own accord to snake around his neck and their faces were now on a slow collision course.

The next thing she knew, her lips were against his, gentle and caring. But soon, as if a switch had been flipped on, an inexplicable craze took over, their slow motions turning into a frenzy; hands tangled, hair mussed and lips bruising. She couldn't think straight or see clearly and she didn't know whether it was from the lack of oxygen or the way his hands sensually caressed every part of her.

His lips traveled down her jaw to her neck where she felt him mumble,"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." He bit into her neck, sucking, scraping, making sure to mark his territory while Maka melted into him, his ministrations driving her insane. She ran her hands through his messy, white locks and pulled his head back, craving for more of him.

She felt like she could finally quench her thirst after years of aimless wandering in the desert and she briefly wondered if Soul felt the same way. Judging by the pressing bulge she could feel against her thigh, she guessed as much.

Instinctively, she ground her hips against his inducing an almost feral growl from him that sent tingles up her spine. He held her hips still before he lost what was left of his quickly depleting self-control to pull away. He stared into her darkened eyes with equal lust before uttering a single command with a voice so husky, Maka could feel her panties soaked through.

"_Bed room._ _Now_."

She couldn't agree more.

* * *

**A/N:**

I've had this in my head for a while now and I felt like I ad to write it since in a lot of fics I've read, Maka's seems to always be completely oblivious of her own feelings which I thought would be kind of out of character. I've always imagined her to be very self-aware rather than just book-smart.

What do you guys think?


End file.
